


here's to our past lives

by cupidshootstokill



Series: past lives [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alpha!Azula, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fire Nation Royal Family, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lu Ten (Avatar) Lives, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mood Swings, Multi, Pining, Politics, Sexual Repression, Slow Dancing, Wet Dream, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, aang and zuko are both 18, alpha!aang, i'll add more tags as the story progesses, mentions of minor character death, omega!Zuko, omega!sokka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-10-26 05:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20736812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidshootstokill/pseuds/cupidshootstokill
Summary: (pls read the other parts of the series first!)in the ruins of an old flame, a new love is born. aang cautiously seeks out zuko, who wants to get closer, but is hindered by self doubt. the past draws them together, as they explore their shared connection, and renew bonds that had lasted a lifetime.a soft, melancholic summer fic about love and losing it.





	1. this isn't our first time around

**Author's Note:**

> it's finally here! aang and zuko falling in love! over continuous chapters! i hope you guys enjoy it, and thank you for all the kudos and support on "so save that heart for me". i've struggled to figure out where i wanted to take the original fic, but inspiration finally struck over the summer! i have a direction and theme i wanted to explore. sorry if this fic ends up lacking any serious external conflict, i kind of want it to be more about zukaang coming together and understanding each other.

The next time he saw Zuko, the prince's hair had been cut short. It folded itself neatly into a topknot on top of his head, and the flames of his golden headpiece sat in the nest of silky black locks. Wispy baby hairs crowned his forehead and curled down the side of his face as if to frame his sharper features with a delicate edge.

They kneeled together in front of the Fire Lord. Zuko's posture was graceful from years of practised discipline, Aang followed his lead from the corner of his eye. Both of them were illuminated by fire, the warmth spread through Aang's chest and he could feel his heart hammering. In front of them was a shadow in the wall of flames, Aang rose from his bow, and faced the man. 

Fire Lord Ozai bore a close resemblance to his son, the same aristocratic features, but his cheeks more hollow and eyes sharper. He spoke quietly, but with a harsh edge to his words. As if demanding to be heard above the crackling fire through fear alone. 

"You must be grateful for my brother's offer to teach you, Avatar." Ozai's gaze upon him was humiliating, as if he was an unsightly ratroach, something to be squashed under his foot and never addressed. The Fire Lord continued, "After all, it is an opportunity that seldom presents itself to those outside of the royal family. I suggest you make the most of his generosity and not fall prey to trivial distractions." 

Aang wondered what Ozai's deemed as trivial. Pursuing his son probably would have made the list, hyper fixated by the waves of cinnamon that roll off Zuko and how the flames dye his hair a soft brown, Aang knew he'd already failed that one. At the least, Roku's warnings of special treatment were clearly unfounded. He resisted the urge to cower under Ozai's severity, he could hardly picture the Fire Lord sweet-talking him into doing his bidding. 

Iroh must have noticed his displeasure from his face, hot on the heels of Ozai's words, he interjected, "Dear brother, you know the pleasure is mine. Do not be put off by my brother's sour words, he is an incurable workaholic!" He winked at Aang and it completely threw him off the loop. Like a fever that been broken, the room's stifling heat dissipated into a comfortable warmth. Ozai scowled, but Aang had visibly relaxed, rocking back and smiling widely at his hosts.

Having changed the atmosphere, Iroh called for tea. No one but Aang was surprised when he poured it himself into four delicate, gold-tipped cups. Ozai watched his brother with the resigned annoyance of someone whose plans had been thwarted, and not for the first time. A servant served the steaming cups and the Fire Lord dimmed the fires for the man's safe passage to the throne. Without the flames, the shadows on his face grew fainter and unveiled the tired monarch hiding behind.

Iroh continued, "Believe me, my brother means well. Yes, you are here to learn, but you are also our honoured guest!" He raised his cup, and took a sip, the rest of the royal family and Aang followed. 

Ozai didn't reignite his curtain of fire, perhaps growing tired of his scare tactic. The tea had revitalised his weary expression, and he became dignified once more. He announced, "Yes, that is why we have arranged a ball for the sake of your arrival. It begins at sunset in the Great Hall, don't be late. Punctuality is prized in the Fire Nation." 

"My brother talks with brevity, I'm sure directness serves him well while engaging with his councilmen. But he forgets to mention, we hope you enjoy your stay and take the time to relax in your suite, complete with its very own sauna!" Iroh placated, with a softness and warmth that befits his kind gaze. "Prince Zuko, would you please accompany Avatar Aang to his suite and make sure he settles in comfortably."

It would seem that Iroh has not forgotten Aang's blatant flirting with Zuko during their first meeting. He returned Iroh's smile, silently wondering who else knows. Aang offered his thanks to the Fire Lord and expressed his gratitude to the general in a way that he hoped Ozai would approve of. If Aang sat straighter and eyes shone brighter, neither brother mentioned it, dismissing the Avatar and Fire Prince.

Zuko rose first, bowing to his elders, then looking towards Aang, who copied his gestures. They walked out of the throne room together, through long hallways of red and gold. As expected, Zuko didn't say much, he walked at an easy pace and smiled when he faced Aang. It was such sharp contrast from before, Aang remembered talking to the back of Zuko's head in the Southern Air Temple. Even if he still hardly spoke, even if his mouth quivered awkwardly when he smiled, even if his gestures felt uncharacteristic and unnatural, Aang couldn't stifle his delight. Rather than the back of his head, Zuko's face was so much prettier, unfamiliar and dazzling.

They were talking about Aang's trip to Crescent Island. Zuko mentioned how his mother visits once a year and pays respect to her grandfather, Roku. 

"My sister and I are supposed to join her, but Azula always finds a way out, so it's usually just me," Zuko added, followed by awkward laughter. They were passing through the Royal Gallery, the portraits of Zuko's ancestors hung severely on the walls.

"Hey, is it weird to you that I'm your great grandfather's past life?" Aang asked, trying to find a connection between them, even if in a literal sense. 

The question caught Zuko off-guard, his plastered smile faltered, and his footsteps came to a standstill. Aang turned back to see the prince's eyebrows scrunching together as he thinks. It was adorable, the authenticity of it. As Zuko focuses on his face, Aang felt like Zuko was finally seeing him. He answers, hesitant, "I don't know, I guess it's weird knowing?" His eyes trailed around the hallway and stared up at the ceiling, seeking some kind of validation, "But, isn't everyone someone's past life? And the rest of us don't know anything about our past lives, or their families." 

Aang nodded, contemplative. As the Avatar, his past lives gave him wisdom and guidance so he could grow and move forward. The Avatar State gifted him with their strength, something which he couldn't fully control, and he hates the destruction that comes out of it. He knew of their triumphs and tribulations and respects them immensely as mentors. Zuko's right, it's not a relationship that most people have, and Aang doesn't know what to make of it.

Zuko looked towards the portraits of past Fire Lords, tracing over their expressions with his lovely golden eyes, the blood ties that he could see in the material world. He stared at one figure in particular, and Aang recalled the young man from dreamlike memories. 

"I spoke to Avatar Roku at the temple," Aang said. "It wasn't the first time we spoke, he's like a mentor to me in many ways."

Zuko averted his eyes from the portrait in front of him, his mouth is in a tight grimace. And somehow Aang felt like he made a huge mistake, bringing up things he shouldn't, just to get a rise out of the Fire Prince. They both understand where this conversation is head, and made eye contact. The gold glinted dangerously, both from the headpiece and his eyes, as if Aang was being accused of committing a crime. Maybe he did, of disturbing the gentle façade Zuko had tried in earnest to maintain.

Aang swallowed, facing Sozin's portrait instead. He continued, without Zuko's permission and against his better sense, "They were lovers, Roku and Sozin."

Zuko stared, and it was like when he was staring at Aang's tattoos in the Air Temple, but horrible. Aang didn't want to say anymore, there was a conclusion to what he started, but the heat from the throne room must have migrated here and was tormenting him for his stupidity. 

"But he killed him," Zuko finished, and it felt almost merciful as he uttered the words Aang dreaded to say. Zuko took his eyes off Aang and aimed his coldness and animosity towards the dead Fire Lord instead. The air seemed to return to Aang's lungs and he breathed in greedily before Zuko could judge him for it. He looked back at Sozin with pity, the fires of purification lick the bottom of Sozin's robes, travelling up as if to erase him from the nation's history. Aang wondered what Zuko saw in the portrait of his great grandfather, what he thought of his cruel fate.

They continued their walk to Aang's room, the pace was faster without conversation. Aang was presented with the back of Zuko's head yet again. And as the disappointment and self-admonishment settled in, even the view of Zuko's lovely nape, now unobscured by dark sheets of hair, could not soothe him.

When they had reached the ornate doors of his suite, Zuko turned to look back at Aang. His expression had softened once more, it was free from both scorn and forced pleasantry. Aang accepted it graciously, smiling at the prince, his inner turmoil earlier completely forgotten and his spirits renewed.

Zuko raised his eyebrows, his mouth hung agape, before he closed it, soft pink lips turned up at the corners. He leaned in closer, holding onto Aang's bare shoulder, and his touch was as warm as Aang expected. The scent of cinnamon wasn't far behind and Aang breathed it in with delight, feeling his cheeks turn red. Zuko moved closer still, Aang could hear his heartbeat, a soft hammering, mirrored by his own chest. A pink tongue darted out as Zuko wetted his lips, and Aang's mind was drifting astray. Unsure of what was going to happen, Aang followed those lips, now glistening wet, and mentally prepared himself.

The pale column of Zuko's neck stretched out in front of him, Aang swallowed thickly as the juncture of his shoulder peeked out from under his collar. Did Zuko not realise what he was doing? Aang felt like he had been heated up to the point of combustion. He closed his eyes and looked away.

"I'll take you to the Dragonbourne Catacombs tomorrow," Zuko's whispered into his ear. 

"Catacombs?" Aang opened his eyes, the prince was still hovering over his shoulder.

"Under the Fire Sages Temple, they're secret, and only for the Royal family, but I'm sure the Sages won't say no to the Avatar. If not, there are other ways." There was a mischievous grin on Zuko's face, and his eyes seemed alive like flickering tips of a flame. It wasn't a seductive look, Aang still didn't quite understand what was going on, but Zuko wasn't trying to make a move, that much was clear.

Aang calmed down, startled by the prince's enthusiasm, and burst out laughing, "Alright, but what's in the Catacombs?"

Zuko stepped back a bit, almost puzzled by Aang's reaction, but ultimately ignoring it. "It's a surprise," he said, confident and pleased with himself. He glanced at the doors as if he just remembered what he was doing with Aang in the first place. "Anyway, this is your suite. You have your own servant to help you dress. Ask them if you want tea or something to eat, or to run the bath. I'm got to leave now, but I'll see you at the ball?"

"Of course, I think your dad would kill me if I was late," he joked.

Blessedly, Zuko smiled, it's soft and fond. "I wouldn't worry about him, it's just a rouse, he has a reputation to maintain in front of his ministers," he reassured Aang. "But I've really got to go, okay? Sorry, I'll see you later."

Aang flushed slightly and bowed at Zuko. "No, I totally distracted you by talking too much," he giggled awkwardly and waved as Zuko started to leave. "I'll see you at the ball!"


	2. diamond sparrow, my moonlit majesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof sorry this took a while to update! i just started uni, so i was busy freaking out for a week before i moved and then spent another week getting settled. but i'm back! as always my updates r random and unpredictable (sorry), but i've managed to write/edit a bit everyday this week, so hopefully i can keep that up

When it was time for Aang to head up to the Great Hall, it was Prince Lu Ten, and not Zuko, who came to escort him. To Aang's horror, Lu Ten picked up on his disappointment immediately, remarking, "What, were you expecting someone else? Sorry, but you've got to hang out with me for a while," cheekily, as Aang shook his head in fierce denial. They walked at a leisurely pace through the palace's endless corridors and even with Aang's haste to see Zuko again, he couldn't find it within himself to complain. The older prince was a skilled conversationalist and had a pleasant demeanour and informal tone that betrayed his regal status or how he was nearly a decade older than Aang. He told Aang stories from his and Zuko's childhood, some things new, others he had heard before from Zuko's letters.

Aang brought up his first impressions of the palace and his brief brush with the Fire Lord, the monarch's sour attitude and displays of intimidation.

"Uncle Ozai?" Lu Ten raised an eyebrow, "Oh yeah, that sounds like him. You thought he was scary then? You should see him in meetings, he goes completely off at ministers for the smallest things. It's hard not to laugh, even when the fire is on you for handing in the wrong report. Believe me, I know."

"You laughed? While he was lashing out at you?" Aang looked at the older prince, incredulous.

"In front of the entire assembly," Lu Ten beamed, "It was more of a brief snort, I tried to cover it up, pretended I was coughing, but then I couldn't stop smirking, you see?" He started making vague gestures, the posture of a prince vanishing entirely, replaced by an impish senior monk Aang would monkey around with at recess.

"Anyway, I had the right report with me. He made me climb all the way up to his throne to hand them over to him myself. When I got there, he scolded me some more for my insolence. This time I didn't laugh, it was close, though. You wouldn't believe what he made me do.

"He had me take a week off to train in one of Dad's teashops, I should take you to one sometime. Anyway, I returned to the assembly as a teaboy, complete in a scratchy little uniform, and I served tea to those old geezers during the breaks."

"That's a unique punishment?" Aang replied, he leaned in closer to Lu Ten, who now had his arm around Aang's shoulders. A waiter passed them, eyeing them funnily, but Lu Ten paid him no heed, much too occupied with his story.

"See, it wasn’t actually a punishment, more of a special assignment. I'd strike up a conversation as I poured them tea - maybe it was the uniform, maybe they felt sorry for me like it was no place for a prince - they were much more responsive than when I talked to them as my normal self. Normally, they'd look at me, as if to say, what does this youngster want? We never talked about business, or rather I sidestepped the topic, and had them talk about their families instead.

"Basically, I gathered intel. I knew all sorts of things, who has back problems, whose daughter had married whom, whose shipment got lost at sea. Uncle made me write it all down in these files he kept on everyone. Now, I know what you're thinking, it's kind of invasive, isn't it? But honestly, I didn't write down any of the serious stuff, and he didn't ask for it either, said it wasn't particularly helpful. Blackmailing doesn't work that well. Or maybe, it does, I wouldn't know, it wasn't what he was going for anyway.

"What Uncle had me do was to find solutions to the ministers' problems. I researched herbs to soothe gastritis, I played matchmaker for the Minister Agriculture's son, I had scoured naval records to find a route from the Earth Kingdom to the Fire Nation which reduced instances of piracy. I did this work for six months, working as if out of my own accord. To be fair, Uncle didn't help me with anything. 

"By the time I was reinstated, everyone had a favourable opinion of me, and I had connections all over. Several senior members those me under their wing critiqued my reports and proposed legislations. My work drastically improved. This is getting boring, isn’t it?" He shot Aang a grin and slipped his arm off Aang's shoulders. They were close enough to the Great Hall that the music filtered over the chatter of guests, creating a cacophony of sounds that echoed down the corridor.

"To cut it short, I was made Governor of the Southern Islands not much later. And that's where I met my wife! So good things really do come out of laughter, but this is probably all a coincidence, right?" Lu Ten concluded, straightening up his back, hands neatly by his side as if returning to his princely mould.

"Fate is a funny thing?" Aang replied, feebly, also taking this as a cue adjust his robes and fiddle with his pendant.

Lu Ten guffawed, before coughing as noble slipped around them, "That's awful."

"You laughed."

"Yeah, but by now, you should know I laugh at anything. Come on, let me introduce you to my old seniors. I'm sorry, I was told to do this." Lu Ten shot him an apologetic smile, and he ushered Aang into the ballroom.

To say that Aang was overwhelmed would be an understatement. Anyone who was anything in Caldera City was there and dressed to the nine in swaddles of embroidered gold on red. But, it wasn't like he was unaccustomed to a crowd, grand celebration and festivals packed with people were part and package of the Avatar deal. There was an orchestra, which was unsurprising, besides how General Iroh was the tsungi horn player. The music was lively and created an atmosphere not dissimilar to a street carnival, perhaps shocking for what Aang was used to receiving in these formal events. However, it all made sense, once a troupe of dancers, no, young nobles dancing, swished past him and Lu Ten. The choreography was fast-paced and beautiful, the footwork was delicate but precise and controlled in a manner that only came with practice. They stooped in and out of circles, swapping partners and moving their arms in graceful arcs. Aang watched from the edge of the circle with rapture, eagerly wanting to be let in, but Prince Lu Ten kept introducing him to everyone that walked their way. Aang was forced to make small talk, smile and be polite. It was like his first week as Avatar all over again. Worse, Zuko was nowhere to be seen, not amongst the crowd of dancers or nobles or musicians. Aang didn't want to look like he's searching, but apparently, he always made everything obvious.

"Congratulations, Aang, you've met everyone in Caldera City," Lu Ten offered hollowly as he patted him on the back. "We can head out to the Gallery now. Fire Lady Ursa and Zuko are resting there, and I'm sure you'd also like to sit down for a bit." He smiled at Aang softly, kindly as if he was giving Aang a much anticipated present.

The whole royal family knew, Aang thought and panicked. Or maybe they didn't, he reasoned, after all, Zuko was the only friend he has here, of course, he would want to spend time with him. Lu Ten was just trying to make him feel comfortable, and bless him for trying.

Aang schooled his expression into something more neutral and less hopefully, and followed Lu Ten out, humming along to the music as he did, a weird little nervous tick. The orchestra sounded echoey and distant from the end of the hallway like he was drifting into a dream, falling deeper and deeper by the second. As if he didn't realise how deafeningly loud it was before.

They entered the Gallery, an elegant room with a high ceiling and golden lamp fixtures crawling up the walls. The candles that illuminated the room burned brighter after their entrance, undoubtedly controlled by one of the princes, and the light unveiled the refined woman before him. Aang bowed to the Fire Lady, and she replied with a swooping nod and a lovely red smile. She was sitting in a large plush chair, cushions surrounding her, and a blanket around her waist. Zuko sat on the couch beside her, leaning over the velvet armrest to pour steaming tea into ceramic cups. The only servant in the room was a maid, massaging the Fire Lady's feet. The intimacy of the scene before him wasn't lost on Aang, as he watched Zuko stroke her dainty hand as if was made of porcelain. 

"I hope I'm not intruding," Aang said, glancing back at Lu Ten, almost accusatory. 

The Fire Lady shook her head, Aang noticed it was pinned up beautifully with gold accessories, there was rouge on her cheeks and her eyelids, too. Even when she started coughing, she was decorated and lovely, dressed to be on display as she hid from the crowd. She grasped Zuko's hand tighter, as his other hand rubbed soothing circles on her back. 

"Please, take a seat," she regained her composure, sitting up straighter against her cushions. "I have been meaning to talk with you, Avatar Aang." She turned to address her nephew, "Thank you for bringing him Lu Ten, please give my regards to your wife, will you?"

Aang turned back in his astonishment, Lu Ten was doing what? He hadn't graciously led Aang to Zuko because he thought Aang was stupidly pining on his little cousin. This was all on Ursa's request, Lu Ten was told to do this.

Lu Ten smiled back at him, it's a shit-eating little grin, and Aang realised he's still very much screwed. He smiled warmly at Ursa. "She prays for your speedy recovery. Take care. Goodbye Zuko, Aang." And Lu Ten left, presumably back to the ballroom, back to entertaining guests and playing the perfect prince.

Aang stumbled forward, past the Fire Lady's outstretched legs and to the seat next to Zuko. He nodded and smiled at Zuko in acknowledgement, which Zuko returned pleasantly. The couch was deceptively soft, Aang swiftly sunk in like it's quicksand and briefly wondered how Ursa wasn't smothered by her cushions. He gripped the armrest and yanked himself up. Zuko's eyes were narrowed in judgement, and Aang almost wanted to sink back into the chair and never come out. Ursa watched him with practised patience, which reminded him of the nuns that cared for him and his cohort of nomad kids when they were tiny tots. Only so much more regal, even when she sneezed into her handkerchief.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Fire Lady Ursa," Aang said, cordially. Zuko handed him some tea and their fingertips brushed, he had to stop himself from reacting to it. It was one thing for his cousin to know, but his mum? Of course, Zuko didn't flinch, returning to his mother's side with ease, and Aang envied his composure. 

She sipped her tea demurely and replied, "The pleasure is mine. I hope you're enjoying your stay in the Fire Nation so far, I understand you begin your firebending lessons tomorrow with General Iroh. He's truly a remarkable bender and a wonderfully patient teacher, Zuko would have told you, I'm sure."

"And a great tsungi horn player!" Aang enthused, he kept his expression animated and bright and was delighted when the Fire Lady smiled at him. "I was surprised to see him among the orchestra tonight,"

"Uncle's always loved music," Zuko interjected. "He practices with the orchestra as often as he can. And we all just gratefully he isn't inviting every eligible over 60-year-old to dance with him." He finished with a wry smile, and Aang laughed, more so because it seemed like the right time to, rather him understanding what Zuko was referencing.

Ursa, although not outright displeased, gave her son an admonishing look, "Iroh is a wonderful dancer."

"Not as good as you," he placated his mother softly, he was still holding her hand as if it was made of fine china. She leaned in to brush a stray hair from his forehead before placing a soft peck in that same spot. Zuko was surely smiling, his face was obscured from Aang's view, but his shoulders tensed up softly, and Aang felt like he was intruding more and more by the second.

"Speaking of dancing," Aang interrupted, his voice wavering out of guilt. "The dance was amazing tonight. I love Fire Nation dances, they're so lively and spirited. I've always wanted to learn, I mean I know a couple already."

Ursa smiled at that as if Aang didn't totally ruin her moment with her son. "Ordinarily, I would offer to teach you. But my husband scolds me for even getting out of bed. Clearly, I'm recovering, but he worries too much," she sighed, relaxing back on her chair, faking exasperation, but her eyes betrayed her fondness. "Still, Zuko is more than capable, aren't you, dear? I'm sure he'd be pleased to teach you."

Zuko gave him a thin smile, clearly not super thrilled by the prospect, but not really in a position to object. By comparison, Aang had to conceal his joy and eagerness, taming the smile that threatened to split his face in two. He practically vibrated on the couch, fiddling with the weighty Air Nomad pendant that hung on his neck and shooting a smile at Zuko every few seconds. 

Zuko cleared his throat and adjusted his position, so he detached himself from Ursa a little bit, turning his gaze towards Aang. He still wore that strained smile, but Aang was thrilled at the prospect of dancing together to care. "So, whenever you're free, I guess? Just ask for me, and we'll try out a couple of moves," Zuko offered, weakly.

"Yeah, that sounds, well, amazing," Aang beamed, leaning in closer. His eyes met Zuko's for the first time this evening and Aang drank in the soft line of kohl that darkened his lash line. It surprised him how he failed to not notice the trace amounts of rouge on Zuko's lips, making them look plumper and all the more lovely. A thin gold earring dangled from his left ear, gently twinkling in the candlelight.

"Well, I'm glad to see you settling in so wonderfully, young Avatar," said Ursa, and Aang forcibly snapped himself out of his reverie. She offered him a parting smile, "I'm afraid I must leave you both, my husband demanded I take an early night." She removed the blanket around his lap and grasped the armrests as she hoisted herself up. Zuko immediately lunged over to support her back and Ursa leaning into her son's arms, balancing herself against him as she rose upright. 

"Shall I accompany you back?" Zuko asked in a hushed tone, eyes filled with concern.

"Zuko, don't you worry, I have Meng to help me," she turned to the maid, now starting beside her mistress, "isn't that right, dear? And besides, what kind of hosts would we be if we left our guest unattended?" She glanced back at Aang, and Zuko nodded in agreement. It was a tired little nod like Zuko was admitting defeat, and Aang felt as if he should have been more offended, but realised it had little to do with him and everything to do with Zuko having to leave his mother's side. 

The Fire Lady left the room slowly, leaning on Zuko for as long as she could before shifting her weight onto the maid, Meng. After she gave a final goodbye, more maids poured in, removing the cushions, blanket and tea set, and following their mistress down the hallway in the opposite direction of the ballroom.

"Sorry about that," Zuko said after they had left. It was just them in Gallery now, still standing, not sure of their next move. 

"About what?" Aang asked, smiling to reassure the prince that he didn’t take any offence.

"Ignoring you, all this time," Zuko said, shifting awkwardly and scratching the back of his neck. It made him appear younger, like a child that had just broken their parents' expensive vase and had the courage to confess, but anticipated punishment all the same.

He didn't understand Zuko's guilt, maybe it was a product of his royal training, to feel incomparable guilt over the smallest of blunders. Or maybe Zuko was naturally like that, considerate to the point of self-neglect. Either way, he tried to pacify the prince. "Hey, you didn't really. You were looking after your mother, you mentioned she was sick in your letters."

Zuko rubbed his forehead, and his demeanour shifted from superficial guilt to open concern. As if he had been waiting this entire time to speak his peace, he said, "Well, she's getting better. But she didn't eat for a week, or so I heard when the fever was at its worst. At this time, I was touring the Islands and I really hated not being there for her. Azula was also away, so it was just her and Father, and apparently, he lost his temper at the royal physician and the medical staff. It was chaos.

"She's still really weak, no matter what she says, her hands are so much thinner than they used to be, and I can feel her trembling when she stands." Zuko sighed, and Aang looked away, unsure of the right words to say. "Sorry, this is getting really depressing. Do you want to head back to the Great Hall, I'm sure the dances are still going on?" Zuko added, after a tense silence. Aang looked back at him, and the forced smiles were back again. The mask had slipped back on Zuko's face soon after he had released his worries, and it all felt terribly unnatural. Not that the Air Nomads were known for being especially emotive people, really they focused on reflection and mediation to maintain their renowned serenity, but they didn't put up facades. If Aang was honest, he didn't think the people of the Fire Nation did either, being upfront with their feelings, passionately and with the haste of a wooden house been set ablaze. Perhaps royalty couldn’t indulge in the expressiveness of common folk. It was a shame, perhaps he and Zuko would be closer if he could speak his mind whenever he pleased.

Still, it was blatantly obvious that Zuko was hurting, Aang didn't have the words to comfort him. It was never a talent he had, healing others, nor one that he ever become particularly proficient at. For the past two years, he relied on Katara heal their group of friends, both emotionally and physically. But now that she wasn't here, Aang was lost as to what to do. She had this amazing ability to understand anyone's pain, to hold them in her arms and soothe their aches and strains. Aang knew that wasn't something he could replicate, he wasn't even sure how Zuko would react if he did, and frankly, he was too afraid to find out.

He couldn't comfort Zuko, but at the very least, he could try to distract him.

Aang leaned back on his feet, looked up at the room's high ceilings, as if in thought. "Actually, I might take you up on a dance lesson, you know, away from the Great Hall? I don't feel like dealing with a crowd." He grinned at a puzzled Zuko, who pursed his lips and looked away, before shrugging noncommittally. 

Okay, so maybe this wasn't the best of distractions. Aang cringed inwardly at Zuko's unenthusiastic response. "Or we could just go back if you want? It's a bit late for a lesson, it's fine," he stuttered awkwardly. 

Zuko just shook his head. "No, hold on, I'm trying to figure out the best place to practice. You know, so we can still hear the music, but so that no one will see us. Do you mind being in the Gardens?"

Aang beamed, excited. "No, the Gardens sound great!" In a sudden rush of confidence, he grabbed Zuko's arm by the sleeve. "Come on, let's go," he said, dragging the prince out of the Gallery, not entirely sure where he was going. 

Zuko stumbled on his feet, and then drew himself closer to Aang, their shoulders brushing against each other. There was a soft, bemused grin on Zuko's face, and warm cinnamon surrounded hung in the air. Zuko strode forward, and Aang practically bounced by his side, constantly outpacing Zuko was his boundless excitement.

The nighttime air was pleasantly warm, with the residual stickiness of the daytime hanging over like a veil. They crossed the grass to a moonlit spot by a couple of trees, where Zuko shed his outer robe. The fine fabric was disposed of by the emerging roots of a great cherry tree for safekeeping. Far off, Aang could hear the orchestra, playing into the night, carried by the humid air, the music had mellowed over the evening into a gentle sway.

"It sounds like they're playing the closing dances now," Zuko remarked. "They're a lot slower than the earlier routine, so they shouldn't be too hard to pick up.

"It's a paired dance, so, usually an alpha or beta man would invite an omega or beta woman to dance," Zuko said. "You have to address me, and then do this with your hands," he held his arms above his head and circled his wrists around each other, as if he were unwrapping bandages, "then you half bow, and hold your right arm out with your palm facing up."

Aang followed Zuko's instructions with swift turns of his wrist as if he was summoning a palm-sized airball. He straightened his back as he stretched out his arm towards Zuko, hoping his shoulders appeared broader.

"That's how you formally ask someone to dance," Zuko said as he slipped his left hand into Aang's open palm. "As for this dance, you improvise it, but the basic framework is you circle each other, and every eighth beat, you change direction. So, you put your hand here," he took Aang's hand and placed it on his waist, covered by his robes, but still wonderfully narrow. Aang could just about feel the rise and fall of Zuko's chest, firebenders had remarkable breath control, as Zuko's breathing was as deep and steady as his own. "And I put my hand on your shoulder, and we join our other hands," Zuko interlaced their palms, and began circling, looking directly at Aang as he did, and he took this opportunity to study the prince's face for unresolved sorrow or anxiety.

"Of course, you're supposed to lead it," he said. "If you want, you can lower me," he leaned back against Aang's hand as an indication, and Aang supported the prince as he dipped back. The pale column of his neck peeked out from under his high collar and his Adam's apple bobbing deliciously as he held his head back. Aang held him suspended under him, his eyes trailing over the sharp tip of his nose and how wispy black hair escaped the neat topknot on the crown of his head. He must have held Zuko like that for a while because he started to tremble, unsteady on his feet. He grabbed onto Aang's robed with urgency, as Aang remembered to pull him up, sheepishly grinning, trying to convey a silent apology with his eyes. Zuko's left arm had snaked its way around Aang's neck and he held onto Aang like a small child while he regained his balance. Aang pushed him into his chest, felt his warmth spread through his robes and his own body.

"Sorry, I should have told you to lift me up earlier," Zuko muttered against his ear, they were still embracing, but Zuko began to slowly push away. He faced away from Aang, looking up at the night sky, but under the moonlight, Aang could see the tips of his ears flushed red. 

"Hey, I didn’t drop you, so it's alright," Aang replied, he drew closer to Zuko, fingers hovering above his waist, as he tried to position himself as before. "Do you want to continue?"

Zuko whipped his head back, his hand returning to Aang's shoulder, with the gaze of a nocturnal predator. Perhaps it was darkness, Zuko's pupils appeared impossibly large, his golden irises reducing themselves into a thin outline. He stared at Aang without blinking, studying his tattoos, face and neck with unconcealed fervour. The scent of cinnamon grew suffocatingly intense as Zuko crept closer and closer until their chests were almost touching again. Zuko's grip tightened on his shoulder, and his manicured nails dug into Aang's flesh. He could hear Zuko's heartbeat hammering, as if it were his own, and felt his rapid breaths tickle his cheek.

Aang was stunned. They were far too close. And ordinarily, Aang would savour moments like this, and subconsciously he still was. There was something inside him driving him to get even closer to Zuko, to wrap his arms possessively around his waist, let his hands trail over his hips and further down. He wanted to bury his face in the crook of Zuko's neck, leave open-mouthed kisses over his scent glands, mess up his hair with his fingers and taste the inside of his mouth. He wanted to do all sorts of things to Zuko, his body reacting to the omega's close proximity. But there was a voice at the back of his head, a voice that told him to push away, that getting any closer would be dangerous for both of them. 

He stared as Zuko, rosy-cheeked and clinging on Aang with lust in his eyes. He turned away from the prince, training his eyes onto the unmoving trees, only turning back when his mind had cleared and he was firm in his resolve. With a burst of air, he pushed the prince backwards. Zuko stumbled back, tripping on the cherry tree's raised roots, and landing unceremoniously on his backside. 

"Shit, what was that for?" Zuko murmured, not sounding wholly cognizant of what just happened. He picked himself up and looked back at Aang, with his robes crinkled from Zuko's grasp. And suddenly, something clicked. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Aang. I didn't know what- I'm to have to leave you." And he picked up his outer robe from the ground, not bothering to put it on, he tucked it under his arm while bowing to Aang. It was hard to tell whether it was a farewell or another apology, Zuko scurried off towards the palace before he could ask. 

Aang was left alone in the humid night air. In the distance, the orchestra played their final tunes. He listened, reflecting silently on what just happened, unsure whether how he should feel, or how he should treat Zuko the next day. Slowly, he began to head back, the faint glow of the palace lights guiding his footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i thought this fic was lacking some classic abo shit, hence the little snippet at the end. if u think this is a fn royal family fic posing as a zukaang fic, u're probably not wrong lmao


	3. i'm the one you tell your fears to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cw: weight loss, discussion of contraceptives 
> 
> hi, i'm back at last! i thought i was going to write this whole thing from aang's perspective, but writing as zuko really refreshes me and tbh he's more plot relevant. the direction of this fic has changed quite a lot from where i originally wanted it to go, i'll be editing the tags to reflect this, but keep in mind that it will be taking a darker tone from now on.

a

Zuko raced back inside the palace, his muscles ached as if he had been training all day. There was an uncomfortable itch under his skin, he felt suffocatingly hot like his skin had caught on fire and he had to remove all of his clothes immediately. He tried not to let that distract him, his whole body tensing up with determination. Sweat dampened his brow, but he continued, navigating through the palace corridors, using his heightened senses to duck from any passer-by that might catch him in his heat ridden state. At one point, he slipped into the servants' passageway, hoping his memory would lead him to his destination.

He arrived outside her bedroom door, sighing in his relief. He mopped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve, undignified without anyone's eyes to judge him. Zuko knocked on the door and called her name. 

Azula opened mere moments after, giving him a quick once over, before herding him inside and firmly closing the door. She placed the back of her palm against his forehead, and retracted it promptly, the line of her mouth grew straighter. Zuko watched her wordlessly, waiting for her reaction. Eventually, she let out a deep sigh and wrapped her arms around his torso. 

"Oh Zuzu, what happened?" Azula asked, kindly with a weariness that didn't suit her. Zuko didn't reply, his brain had given up after finding Azula, in hopes that she could compensate as she usually did. He sagged against her sharp shoulders, burrowing into her neck. Somehow she felt different from before, and Zuko didn't know why it took him so long to realise. Her shoulder blades protruded from her under her nightgown and for once Zuko felt as if he could smother her under his weight. 

His brain, still slow, ignoring her earlier question, asked, "When did you get so bony?" She didn't reply either, instead wrapping her arms around his neck, pushing him closer against her scent glands and ruffling his damp hair. Zuko knew she was doing it to distract him, and conceded, feeling the itch under his skin fade away as he was enveloped by her warm amber scent. There was plenty of time for questions later, Azula knew that as well as he did.

She let go after he had calmed down sufficiently to regain his senses, but kept one arm against his back as she led him to her couch. He placed at the edge, with an armrest to lean on and plush cushions to support him as he bonelessly flopped onto the couch. Azula sat beside him, poised, her knee touching his. He tilted his head up and caught a good view of her desk, still lit candles burning haphazardly as scrolls and leather-bound books were messily sprawled across the dark wood. Most people would assume Azula worked neatly, and she had always cleaned up impeccably afterwards. Truth was that once she really got into her work, she tended to lose track of her surroundings, applying her razor-sharp focus into one task, and completely neglecting everything, even herself in the process.

"Were you working all night?" he asked, unsurprised when she nodded in response. Azula tried not to miss celebrations, unlike Zuko, who tried all sorts of tricks to shrink away. She liked being the centre of attention, the spotlight suited her, and besides, she was fantastic at networking. Zuko recalled the sudden influx of parties after Azula's coming of age ceremony and her subsequent introduction to the royal court. He remembered dragging Mai away into the gardens or to his quarters as they scoffed at Azula and Ty Lee, proud alphas, preening under the attention. He remembered how Mai would stare at Ty Lee after she came of age, how neither he nor Azula truly understood what was happening. Azula had ruthlessly teased them anyway, and Zuko joined in, somewhat reluctant but wanting to fit in. This was before Aang, before he became the subject of teasing, and Mai and Ty Lee banded against him fiercely, ready for their revenge.

"Would you tell me what happened?" she asked, eyes imploring softly. 

"I'm in heat," Zuko stated.

Her eyes rolled back. "Obviously. I meant, why now?" 

"I was with Aang," he started, glancing back at Azula, a neutral expression schooled onto her face. He didn't know whether to be put off by her lack of reaction, but he supposed there was no helping it. "We were in the gardens, you know, by the cherry tree. And we were dancing, and then it just happened."

"Just dancing?" Azula asked. The implication was obvious. Zuko didn't know if he should be relieved they weren't doing anything more, or be ashamed of how strongly he reacted to something so innocent. Although as far as he knew, Azula had no right to judge, given how the tips of her ears turning red at the slightest mention of her fiancé. 

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, a nervous tick that Azula no doubt picked up on. "Things started getting hazy. And then he pushed me away with a blast of air. And I ran here straight away."

Azula hummed, satisfied, getting up from the couch in one fluid movement. "You know, it was good that you came to me. I'm impressed, Zuzu," she praised him with a feline smirk, her hand ruffling his hair, but really just tugging it softly.

"I didn't want the healers to get the wrong idea." Or any idea, really, about his relationship with Aang.

She continued her absent tugging as her eyes wandered around her room, "Of course, these walls have ears, Father's are especially keen." 

There was an unspoken agreement among the royal family, that they don't talk about Aang and Zuko's relationship in front of his father. If they must, their weekly correspondence is not mentioned, and the extent of their friendship is downplayed heavily. Lu Ten and Azula have teased, as they tend to, at dinnertime, but have never crossed the line, even when Zuko thought they were about to. They've always known, that Ozai should never find out, that this relationship should be free from his meddling, for better or for worse.

"Do you still have the tea you saved from my last heat?" Zuko asked, still flopped against the heap of pillows. Weakly, he raised a hand, waving it in her general direction, hoping she would get the message. 

"Yes, of course," she grasped his hand firmly, pulling his drooping figure up with one firm yank. He wrapped his arm against her waist, supporting his weight against her shoulder, feeling it poke the side of his skull as they ambled together towards Azula's walk-in wardrobe. He idly jabbed a finger against her protruding ribs, humming in displeasure.

"Oh shut it, you're hardly in a state to comment," she snapped, elbowing him almost a little too hard. Zuko stopped, sagging back and smiling into her thick hair. 

They started spending their heats and ruts together since Azula presented. It was a practical measure, their scents calmed each other down, without causing the arousal the opposite sex would usually cause. It wasn't an uncommon practice, especially in Fire Nation past and among the lower classes. Of course, they had teas and medicines to dampen the effects of heat, but ultimately each other's company was preferential to days bedbound with the insistent need for sex itching under your skin.

And, truly, they treasured the other's companionship. They would talk a great deal, it was the perfect time to catch up on everything they missed because of Azula's packed schedule as Crown Princess. Sometimes they would read to each other, Azula, reading rare tomes she found in concealed in hidden libraries or obtained from nobility all over the world with her sharp wit and cunning ways; Zuko, not wanting to lose in terms of intrigue and deciding that no ordinary book would do, read the letters Aang sent him. 

He followed her into her walk-in wardrobe, her amber scent hanging from the dresses and robes that adorned the hangers. Zuko stopped, carding his fingers between the richly decorated fabrics, brushing past soft silks and pleated skirts. They've always nested with each other's clothes, letting the other pick whatever they desired, provided that it wasn't too delicate or something that would be needed in the near future. Zuko occupied himself with searching through Azula's ceremonial attire, searching for his fixed favourite.

Azula was in the other corner, opening the drawers of the small cabinet that she kept hidden behind a floor-length mirror. Zuko could only assume she stashed the tea in there with the rest of her strange possessions. From the corner of his eye, Zuko caught several water tribe scrolls, a book with flowers creeping along its spine, and dried flowers that somehow seemed familiar. He vowed to ask her about it, filing the thought away in the recesses of his mind, as he leafed through embroidered silks like pages in a book.

"You're lucky I hadn't separated the herbs for my own use," Azula commented as she held a small silken pouch in her hand. She glanced over to Zuko, holding her coming of age robes in his hands as if he was hugging the resplendent white and gold fabric. "Oh come now, Zuzu, you know those smell more like you now." She pulled some of her training attire off the hangers just in case, and the pair of them left the wardrobe. 

"So you're learning apothecary now?" Zuko questioned as he sat on the edge of her bed, rearranging the pillows and spreading her robes on top of the bedspread. 

Azula was making tea, having emptied the teapot her maidservant had brought earlier that evening, she replaced the water. "I thought it would be a good time to learn, perhaps I could be of use to Mother." She added the mixture of dried leaves and herbs to the pot she had heated with her firebending. 

"Or poison her if you're not careful," Zuko remarked, not intending to sound cruel. 

Azula seemed to understand as she always does, not taking offence in the slightest, or at least not showing it. It wasn't as if Zuko didn't appreciate the sentiment, sometimes watching over Mother by himself drained him in a way he couldn't fully rationalise. The idea that Azula would be with them and helping in her own way was source of reassurance. But given how sick Mother was, now was really not the time to be playing doctor. And Azula was phenomenal, but Zuko honestly didn't understand what she hoped to achieve that the court physicians - the best doctors in the country - couldn't.

And of course, she must know this, he thought. And it confused him all the more.

He watched her as she poured the steaming tea into a cup, handing it to him. "Besides, Mother had wanted me to take an interest in her greenhouse for a while now. You would be surprised by the sort of plants that she grows in there."

Zuko tried not to read too much into that, how Mother never asked him. Not that Zuko ever cared about horticulture, but neither had Azula. He didn't want his stupid jealousy ruining his time with his sister, he thought he had left those petty feelings behind when she left after her engagement. Dwelling in solitude with Mai's infrequent company, as he missed Azula too much to be bitter about how she was an alpha and him a lowly omega. It always hurt less that he was Mother's favourite and Azula was Father's. It felt fair, even if he resented having to be poised and polite at all times, being dolled up before events he scarcely attended. 

Of course, Azula did all of these things naturally, almost as if to spite him, but she was praised for much more than how she presented herself. He remembered being ten, and finally having plucked up the courage to ask his father to help him with his bending, a technique that Azula had mastered a week before. Ozai patted his head, condescending even as he praised Zuko's eagerness to learn, and encouraged him to go back to his mother, to master the art of floral arrangement, or whatever omegas did.

Iroh took over his lessons after that point, and Zuko was grateful. He wondered if Ozai had anything to do with it, but was too vexed to give the man any credit. 

Zuko brought the steaming cup up to his face. The smell of warm spices was a little too strong for his liking, but it wasn't unfamiliar, so he took a sip, trustingly. His face soured, mouth open in disgust and nose scrunched in displeasure. "Azula, you made it too strong," he complained, not caring if he whined.

"Of course, I did, dumdum," she replied, raising her arched eyebrows. Zuko didn't like that look, as if he had said something incredibly stupid. "I made it three times stronger so you would get over your heat quicker."

"It's disgusting." He didn't want to argue with her, but he was already bitter and had a harder time than usual holding his tongue when he was in heat. "And I don't think that's how it works."

"Unless you have any better ideas, I suggest you hold your nose and drink up," she said, not falling for the bait. Perhaps she had matured since her trip to the South Pole, or perhaps it was merely common sense to not fight with an omega in heat. Either way, Zuko's appreciation for her was restored, as backed up against the bed, Azula joining him with their backs pressed against pillows, curled up in Zuko's nest.

Zuko did as he was told, swallowing up the remaining tea, ignoring how it burned the back of his throat in favour of not having to taste it. He set the cup on the floor before snuggling up to Azula's side, resting his chin against her shoulder. "So what were you looking at before I came in?" he asked.

"Trade agreement with the Southern Water Tribe." He watched her side profile intently, expecting her to elaborate as she usually does. All he got was an uncharacteristically dramatically sigh, and Zuko wasn't too sure what that meant, other than she was working too hard again and probably losing her mind in the process.

"And Father is making you work on it even after your engagement?" he asked, thinking it was a convenient segue into something else he would much rather discuss. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and nod in response, and Zuko began to think that his sudden intrusion was the respite Azula desperately needed. 

"We started working on it in Southern Water Tribe, and I'm finalising the details now."

"What a way to spend your courtship," he remarked.

"A necessary evil, I needed something to convince Father to go to the South Pole," she replied, drily.

That made sense, he supposed. Although he wouldn't put it passed the two of them to be genuinely enthusiastic about the agreement. Zuko barely knew Sokka, meeting him once at a party and then later during the official engagement. Of course, he felt bad for not getting to know the other omega better, but it was hard to get a word in when those two were together, totally absorbed in their own world, talking about all sorts of things that he couldn't understand.

"I can't believe you got engaged so quickly." He wanted to say that for a while now, glancing back at Azula, afraid how she might react.

She nodded slowly, not looking too perturbed by his comment, but still hesitating over her words. "Believe me, I don't think it's ideal either. But so far, I'm not disappointed." She leaned back, getting closer, and Zuko could see the small smile that played on her lips.

"Isn't he coming over later this month?" 

She nodded, openly beaming. She looked lovely like this, radiant in way Zuko didn't quite recognise. Younger, but different from the Azula he knew when they were kids. Child Azula always acted older than she truly was, this Azula was as happy as a girl her age should be.

"That's right, to present the final agreement."

"But, what are you going to do then?" Zuko asked. "You know, after the whole thing's been approved."

"Well, I have an idea. I'm thinking of extending the agreement," she said, pausing deliberately, dramatically, a cat-like grin on her lips, "to the Northern Water Tribe." 

"Is that even possible? Aren't they isolationists?"

"They are, but we'll make it happen anyway," she replied, not missing a beat. Her golden eyes gleamed as if she knew some secret the rest of the world wasn't privy to. He wouldn't be surprised if it was true. If the ancient spirit, Wan Shi Tong, himself bestowed that knowledge upon her.

"You two are insane," he said, smiling fondly back. "Is that what the Water Tribe scrolls were for? The ones in your wardrobe."

She hummed, approvingly. "I've always thought you would make an excellent spy, you're unexpectedly sharp and good at remembering small details."

As unexpected as the compliment was, Zuko glowed at the praise, approval soothing his heat-addled mind in stupid ways. His mood was better than it had been in a long time, and he would be more embarrassed but the feeling was too pleasant to ignore. Like he was drinking warm sake, he felt like he swallowed the afternoon sun, and it warmed his belly and made him bolder.

"Well, if you ever need my services, just ask."

"Of course," she said, sensing his good mood and hugging around the neck.

"Now that I think about it, you still haven't told me about your trip to the Southern Water Tribe," Zuko mentioned.

Azula tensed slightly but obliged as they often did during this time, the mixing of their scents bringing them closer together and breaking down reservations and revealing secrets. "Well, it was cold, I think I was bending almost constantly to keep warm. The food didn't agree with me either, which is strange, considering it was sort of similar to the cuisine of the coastal islands."

"Well, you never really liked seafood. That's probably why you've gotten so skinny," Zuko commented, while idly flopping Azula's bony hand as he held it below the wrist. 

"Yes, well, I didn't want to be rude, but Sokka noticed, and he suggested we go hunting."

"Hunting? They let their omegas hunt?" Zuko asked, suddenly feeling hollow.

"It's not the norm, as far as I know. He said his father taught him to hunt from a young age since his sister could bend," she answered. "Oh, and the Chief gave him a sleigh drawn by icen wolves for his coming of age gift."

"Really," Zuko said, with a grim expression on his face. 

Azula smirked, determined not to let the mood change for the worst, and poked his forehead. "Oh, come on. You got a dragon for yours, why would you want a sleigh anyway?"

"Yeah, from Uncle. And you know it's not the same thing," he said, not trying to be ungrateful or difficult. 

Dragons were a royal omega's companion. A powerful being sent from the heavens to protect those of royal lineage and consorts of the Fire Lord. They were wonderful creatures, and he loved Druk dearly. But it was tradition that had brought them together, not an understanding of Zuko as anything other than an omega prince. Besides, Sokka would get his own, just as his mother had when she got married.

"Well, what is there to hunt?" he asked, trying to swallow his bitterness.

"Varieties of seal, elk type creatures, snowy foxes. The meat was pretty tough, obviously, they don't farm animals over there, but it was better than seafood."

Zuko hummed in response. It wasn't like he had any desire to hunt, the sport wasn't popular within the Capitol, given the lack of forests or any appropriate terrain to facilitate it. However, he had been a spectator to a few hunts on his trip around the Fire Nation. He hadn't seen or heard of an omega hunting, certainly not within the nobility. Still, the heat was messing with his mind, he knew he was being difficult and didn't want to stop.

"I just realised, didn't you have your last rut while you were there?" Zuko mentioned, as casually as he could manage.

"You're right," Azula answered, looking back at Zuko cautiously as he stared back, urging her to continue. "I spent it with Sokka."

Well, he was just throwing things against the wall out of frustration, he hadn't expected anything to stick.

"Does Father or Mother know?" 

Azula shook her head, "Sokka's family know, but we have an agreement not to tell Father or Mother."

He snorted in disbelief, thinking about how hard it was to hide Aang from his father, and they were only writing letters. "How on earth did you convince them to agree to that?"

"I helped Sokka through his heat before, and we discussed it after then." He raised his eyebrows, expecting her to burst out laughing any second, calling him a gullible fool.

Instead, she looked down at her hands, the blush that covered her face look very real. Still, he waited, Azula could be incredibly convincing when she wanted to. 

She continued to speak, "You know, our marriage is hugely beneficial for the Water Tribe. And I told them that Father would terminate the engagement without hesitation."

"You're serious," he said like it was a question.

Golden eyes flashed back at him, colder than the winter sun. "You think I'm lying?" 

Zuko rolled his eyes, feeling something burn inside him. Sure, he felt stupid for not believing her, and the rational part of his mind told him to apologise before it was too late. But there was a greater - irrational - part of him that felt slightly betrayed like she had left him behind somehow. They sat shoulder to shoulder, but all Zuko could feel was the distance. She was far away from him, in a land of snow and perpetual winter, no longer could she understand the sunshine that warmed his dark hair as he basked in the garden.

It saddened him, yes, but more than anything, it made him angry. And that anger boiled up to the surface. 

"Well, would you have told me if I didn't ask? Or was I supposed to meet a blue-eyed firebending toddler from the Water Tribe and just figure it out for myself?" he spat out acerbically. 

"Don't be difficult, of course I was going to tell you." He wondered if she was being serious, not just saying words to pacify him. "And that wouldn't happen, anyway."

"What does that mean."

"They have this contraceptive in the South Pole, it's supposed to be very effective." She looked up at him as if to reassure him. Of course, it didn't. He could hardly understand her, she was so far away.

"That reminds me," she began. "I brought some back for you, Katara said I should."

He wanted to laugh. He was so mad, she always said shit like this, as if he was stupid. He sat up, not wanting to be near her any longer.

"Are you sure it was Katara's idea?"

To which Azula glared back in a way that would have made any other omega whimper. "Does it matter whose idea it is?"

"Yes? What does Katara think I'm doing, better yet what do you think I'm doing?" He was shouting at her now, unable to suppress his anger any further. 

He hated this, hated fighting with her, but sometimes it was too hard to stop. They weren't kids anymore, he couldn't punch her because she was being mean. Mother wasn't there to break up their bickering, letting them cool off without the other's presence riling them up. They've grown up and their problems with them. If he stormed out of her room in a haze of fury, where would he go? Who would be there to care for him? Who would listen to her secrets?

He had to calm down, he held his head in his hands, not looking at her as focused on breathing in and out. Mercifully, she was silent, they both know that this was best. He slowly emerged from out of his mind, tension not quite gone, but not longer ready to snap.

"Look, I know you're trying to help. But Aang and I - we're not like that," he tried to explain, as calm as he could manage.

"I know, but you know this isn't for him. It's for you, and you're welcome to use it as you please, and if you don't have any use for it, that's also fine." Her eyes searched for his, holding his gaze, as she said, softly, "You don't have to be with him, you know? We all tease you about it, but if you don't want to be with him, you don't have to. Just because he's the Avatar, it doesn't mean you have to be with him."

Sometimes she said things so true that made him want to cry. It was moments like this when she knew him better than he knew himself. The heat felt like a sign like the universe was telling him this was the man he must marry. And perhaps he was attracted to Aang in some physical way that warranted this reaction. But they were nothing yet, he didn't even know if he wanted them to anything ever. 

With her reminder, it was like she never left, she was on his side the whole time. He returned to her side, and she welcomed him back with open arms. It was clear by the way she pulled the blanket up to cover them that they were done with words now, falling asleep like children in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there was a lot of setting up of important plot threads in this chapter, even a parasite reference!
> 
> also i changed the chapter title song, it's from "Buzzcut Season" by Lorde. azula just has a Pure Heroine vibe to her, so i'm thinking of using lyrics from that album for azula!centric chapters. 
> 
> oh btw i'm thinking of making my twitter active again, if u want to follow, it's @4ku_n0_h4n4


	4. you're a flame that revives flowers that you haven't even seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> important note: i changed the rating from M to E, cos this chapter has (brief) explicit sexual content, and i thought it was better to be on the safe side, pls check the tags!
> 
> cw: alcoholism (not from the main characters)

Aang had been awake for a while now, not moving from his bed. He stared at the high ceiling through the gauzy gold fabric draped over bed's canopy. The ceiling was white, not red or some fanciful display of gold patterns, and he was grateful for its simplicity. It felt grounding and familiar in this strange world. Thinking of last night made his limbs go weak and his mouth dry. He would have mediated, like usually did, but he couldn't bring himself to. His mind was a scrambled mess, and he all he knew was smudged kohl, eyelids shut and cheeks red and breathlessness. 

He told himself he did the right thing, Zuko wasn't in his right mind, he couldn't take advantage of the prince while he was so very vulnerable. His arms were wrapped around his neck and the smell of cinnamon was overpowering, overripe and saccharine instead the usual warmth that burned if you got to close. It incited a hunger, deep inside him. Almost violent, not like the innocent desire he felt all those years ago when he first met Zuko. This was possessive and destructive, a foreign discomfort scratching in his chest. He had to push back, it was only right, he didn't want to lose himself to this.

But the itch stayed, as if branded into his skin by molten iron. If Lu Ten could smell it, he didn't say, greeting Aang as he returned to the ballroom, offering a him drink. Aang rejected, of course, and watched as Lu Ten swung back the glass, throat bobbing as he gulped it down a little too quickly. He smiled back, bright with a deep exhalation as set down the glass, and Aang stood next to him, wordlessly staring. He wanted to flinch when Lu Ten grabbed his arm, dragging him into the crowd, but he didn't react, his footsteps following the older man. 

He stood by, politely smiling as Lu Ten talked to his seniors. Old ministers laughed at the prince's flushed face, making unsavoury jokes about their wives and the pretty young dancers. Aang watched uncomfortable, as Lu Ten laughed with them, guffawing in his drunkenness. Eventually they moved away, Lu Ten dragging him once more, with his arm around his shoulders like an old friend. Under his breath, he muttered, "Fuck those dirty old bastards."

He grabbed another drink off a servant, the movement so fluid that Aang scarcely registered it until he saw the lip of the glass tilted back against Lu Ten's mouth.

"Should you be drinking that much," he said, the words leaving his mouth before he can really think them through.

Lu Ten faltered, lowering the half empty glass. "Sorry, force of habit. I'm probably a mess right now," he said, glancing around the ballroom through his peripheral vision. "Well, at least the Fire Lord's not here."

He set the glass down on another tray, smiling dopily at Aang after he did. "It's getting late isn't it? You must be tired."

And they started walking out of the ballroom, without saying goodbye to anyone. Lu Ten wasn't dragging him anymore, his hands by his side and eyes distant as the strode back to Aang room. Neither of them made conversation, Aang too out of it, mind empty from exhaustion and the unsettling urge that plagued his brain. Lu Ten was also uncharacteristically quiet, Aang assumed he was sobering up. He imagined it was the thought of an early morning and meeting the same disgusting ministers the next day that soured the prince's expression.

They reached his room, and Aang wished Lu Ten good night halfway past the threshold. To which Lu Ten just waved back, feet already walking backward and mouth in a tight smile. So Aang walked in and closed the door, both of them eager for this night to end as soon as possible.

He washed up, his movements quick and efficient, before throwing himself at the stupidly large canopy bed, begging for sleep to take him. And it did, and the itch followed him into his dreams.

It wasn't a perfect recollection of the garden, existing in a liminal plane between reality and imagination. The moonlight shone with an intensity that casted a pearlescent glow on every it touched and the shadow of the cherry tree threatened to swallow him whole in its darkness. Zuko practically shined, his hair was as long as when Aang first met him and caught the moonlight, shimmering like tendrils of silver, flowing from the crown of his head. His robes hung loose, begging to be tugged off, and Aang grabbed him by the collar, pushing him closer. They were sitting on the grass, legs sprawled in front of them. Zuko rolled on top of him, his forearms caging Aang head, now pushed down against the ground that felt cloud soft. Aang tilted his head up and kissed Zuko, his tongue pushing past soft lips as the prince melted. His hair forming a black curtain around them, shielding them from the scrutiny of the moon, the sugared cinnamon haze growing ever more oppressive. 

When he woke up, it was because of the morning sun glaring through a gap in the curtains. The back of his eyelids flashed an angry red, and he had to shut his eyes almost as soon as he opened them, fearing the sunlight would burn off his retinas. He rolled over the other way and thought about how well placed the space was, hitting his face just right, as if sent from the heavens to banish all traces of his dreams. 

And they largely vanished, although his hardness lingered, an outline jutting out from under the blanket. He groaned, he was in a better mood, no longer soullessly tired. But apparently, the itch remained. More bearable, though. He reached down to grab his cock, running his fingers up and down the length. Closing his eyes, he pictured Zuko between his legs, his cheeks hollow from sucking hard. 

Gone was his long hair, Aang carded his fingers through the shorter locks, he grabbed it by the fistful, pushing Zuko down until the prince took all the way down. The prince started bobbing as Aang fucked his pretty little mouth. Smiling content as he imaged him, it was filthy in a way that he loved. Zuko gazing up at him wantonly, hair sweaty and sticking at odd angles, dark tear stricken cheeks, drool mixed with precum dripping from the corner his mouth as he eagerly sucked Aang off. And Aang was coming, straight down Zuko's mouth, his good little omega swallowing it down without hesitation.

He basked in his satisfaction, his mind finally at peace.

That's when he noticed someone - Zuko - knocking at the door. His eyes snapped open and he jolted up, as if struck by lightning.

"I can hear you, you know. It's almost midday, I'm coming in," he called from outside. Aang wondered just how much he heard.

"Zuko, hold on for one sec-"

The door opened, and revealed the prince, utterly decent and positively exasperated. He was in what Aang assumed was his training attire. The fabric was plain and pressed firmly against his body, instead of the silks that hung with an alluring laxity. 

"Hey, Zuko, uh, good morning?" Aang greeted weakly. Zuko didn't look impressed, in fact, Aang would even go as far as saying he looked angry. The prince stood with his lips pursed, arms folding in front of his chest.

"I knocked for five minutes straight, what were you doing?" Zuko tilted his head to side, his tone was even and voice quiet, as if suppressing the urge to yell at him. 

"Uh, nothing! Sorry, it, uh, takes me a while to wake up?" Aang supplied, wanting to placate him. He wondered what brought on the prince's foul mood

Zuko sighed, "Well, I guess you had a late night." He walked in, wheeling a tray in front of him, "I brought you breakfast."

"You really didn't have to," Aang called out, smiling awkward, waterbending his come with a flick of his wrist. It went into the flower vase on the bedside table and he winced internally at the idea of cleaning it up later, or worse one of the maids finding it. "Hey, let me wash first?"

"Just be quick about it, Uncle expects us straight after breakfast," Zuko replied, gentler this time.

"Right! Wouldn't want to be late for my first lesson," Aang said, as he half-scampered across the room to the bathroom. He shot a brief glance at the sauna, realising now really wasn't the time and paced towards the bath. Aang opened the tap with a flick of his wrist, bending the rest out and washing himself as quickly as he could. He was perhaps too aggressive in his haste, desperate to distance himself from his former thoughts. It wasn't particularly pleasant, but the urgency of it inspired a liveliness or vigour inside of him.

Zuko was waiting for him by the couch after he finished. He was sitting with his legs together and back not quite touching the upholstery, golden eyes glanced towards him expectantly as he Aang emerged from the bathroom. The prince didn't say a word to him until he sat down, gesturing at the breakfast platter with a range of jams, fruits and congee.

"I don't know what you normally eat, so I got everything that was vegetarian," Zuko commented.

"Are you having some? There's no way I can eat all of this by myself." Aang knew that wasn't how it worked. He'd stayed at enough palaces to know that the servants ate the leftovers, so it didn't matter how much he ate because (he would hope) none of the food was wasted. 

Zuko chewed his lip, and Aang didn't know he did that. "Well, I am kind of hungry," he said, before handing Aang a plate and then helping himself to a bunch of grapes. 

Aang watched him, transfixed as the prince pushed plump grapes passed his lips, before snapping back to reality. He piled random fruits onto his plate and pretended to be absorbed in peeling a mangorange, hoping Zuko didn't notice. He couldn't tell if it was just the food that surrounded him, but Zuko smelt different. Warmer than usual, and with something else mixed in. No, someone else. Zuko wasn't even looking at him, which put him on edge. It seemed like last night's possessiveness resurfaced, he eyed every exposed scrap of skin on the prince's body for bruises or bitemarks. He wasn't satisfied just because he didn't find any, it doesn't mean they weren't in places he couldn't see, or that the prince wasn't with someone other than him. Part of him wanted to provoke, get some answers or at very least a reaction.

"So, last night you seemed kind of out of it," he mentioned, innocently enough. 

Zuko's head whipped back instantly, Aang resisted the urge to smirk. His eyes were wide, soft mouth agape, mirroring his expression from the previous night, but with a sharp clarity. He looked alarmed, and Aang kind of felt bad.

"Aang," Zuko began, and Aang almost melted at just that. "Can you do me a massive favour and not mention what happened last night to anyone?"

"Is that why you've brought me breakfast this morning?" Aang teased cruelly, unable to resist any longer.

Zuko didn't respond, looking away guiltily.

Aang chewed on his lip, instantly regretting his words. "Hey, I was kidding. I really liked having breakfast with you, we should do it again some time." 

Zuko took this as his cue to also get up. "We should head to the training grounds now." He pushed the trolley away from the couch. The prince walked ahead, not waiting or checking if Aang was following. He really fucked up this time, he thought, hating how every conversation he had with Zuko turned sour sooner or later.

They walked to the grounds in silence, Aang not daring to get any closer to Zuko in fear of upsetting him further. The atmosphere was uncomfortable, and Aang was grateful to see Iroh waiting for them, waving enthusiastically when the pair of them approached.

Being around Iroh flipped a switch inside Zuko, and he started smiling again, greeting his uncle warmly with a hug. He apologised for their lateness, and Aang interjected, trying to take the blame, although Iroh didn't seem particularly bothered. 

The training grounds were close to the throne room, situated just outside the main wing of the palace, which made a lot of sense, since it was largely inhabited by the royal guards, practicing their forms under the midday sun. They walked over to Iroh, seated on a chair at the edge of an unoccupied arena. They both sat on the two remaining chairs left for them, and Aang wondered why the general had bothered with the set up in the first place.

Iroh began to talk, explaining the philosophy behind firebending, about its origins, about Sun Warriors and the dragons, and chi and how it flows, about the breath and the position of the sun. The chairs made sense, Aang though as he listened to the lecture. It wasn't that Iroh wasn't engaging, because he was, and Aang could recognise a skilled storyteller when he met one. But as usual, his attention strayed elsewhere, following Zuko's gaze as he watched the guards producing balls of fire from their fists. 

And of course Iroh noticed, pausing with a benevolent smile. "But perhaps you are a more practical learner?" he suggested to Aang innocently, who began to giggle awkwardly out of mortification. Zuko glanced back at Aang, mildly amused, and he was starting to think that learning firebending with Zuko around wasn't such a good idea after all.

Thankfully, the general paid no attention to Aang's embarrassment, raising slowly from his seat. He took a wide stance, planting his feet firmly to the ground much like an earthbender. "Now, when I breathe out, that breath becomes fire." His right fist punched forward and a brilliant burst of flames was produced.

Aang leapt up from his seat, and stood beside Iroh, mimicking his form. He breathed in, slow and steady, raising his arms. On the exhale, he punched and there was fire. It was smaller than Iroh's and didn't sustain itself for half as long, but Aang felt its warmth and saw the dancing waves of orange and gold before they flickered out entirely.

It felt incredible. Raw and exciting in way no other element was. Not like the first time he earthbended, crushing a boulder into pieces, not like the push and pull of bending the stillness of a lake, not even the freedom of soaring above the clouds on his glider. Firebending ignited something inside him, like he was caught in his own flames, and it made him feel alive.

"I did it!" he exclaimed, almost jumping in his excitement. "Zuko, did you see that? I did it!"

He turned back to see the prince staring, golden eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Beside him, his uncle mirrored his expression. 

"How did you do that so quickly?" Zuko mumbled, evidently still in shock.

This happened pretty often. He always had a knack for picking up bending faster than his peers, it's what earned him his tattoos twice younger than most Air Nomads. Growing up it was both rewarding and isolating, even if he was being friendly, others saw it as condescending. Aang often preferred playing with his non-airbender friends for that very reason. But ever since he become the Avatar, his natural gifts were less of a mystery or even enviable, as his title held him apart from everyone else. Like he existed on a playing field others couldn't, and therefore shouldn't try to reach.

At sixteen, he was well known among the Air Nomads as the prodigious young master. He had almost forgot the feeling of being gawked at like he was superhuman. Even when he learned waterbending, Master Pakku praise was barbed with remarks about his laziness and lack of attention during his lessons. Only Katara, with her natural kindness, gave him genuine compliments, even if she did destroy him when they duelled one on one. Earthbending was a nightmare, Aang not used to the struggle. Bumi comments were near indecipherable and Toph straight up heckled him at every opportunity. The whole ordeal was a blast to his ego, and Aang felt as if he never truly recovered until now. 

He beamed at Zuko, and just shrugged. He honestly had no clue, never did, but he loved the effect it had on people all the same.

"Aang, that was indeed impressive for a first attempt, but it seems that I have neglected to talk about an important aspect of firebending," Iroh said, gesturing for him to sit down once more. "Given the volatile nature of fire, safety must be practiced when bending."

He knew the implication, neither of them expected him to bend on his first try. So he sat back down, pleased with himself as he smiled sweetly at his teacher. Zuko was no longer idly watching the guards, and he felt sixteen again as the prince stared at him hard enough to burn holes.

Iroh's safety talk almost killed his excitement, as he sat pretending to listen. He switched between drumming his fingers against the armrest to jerking one leg up and down and back again several times before it was over. Zuko eyed him, following the tapping of his fingers to the incessant moving of his leg, frowning deeper and deeper in annoyance. If anything, Iroh seemed amused by the pair of them, Aang's teacher's pet smile growing faker and more strained by the second, Zuko's patience thinning to a hair's width. 

The second lecture of the day ended, he instructed Aang to work on some breathing exercises. "Control comes from the breath," he said, and Aang internally groaned. He was airbender, raised by monks. He had been mediating since he could walk. He could breath just fine, he probably had a better lung capacity than most firebenders did anyway. What was the point.

Before he could voice his frustrations with the most diplomatic phrasing he could think of, a servant emerged, summoning Iroh away. The general rose from his seat, Aang getting up not even a millisecond after. They concluded the lesson with a bow of respect.

"It seems as if my dear daughter in law needs my assistance with the little one." Iroh smiled full of tenderness. "Ah, the joys of being a grandfather!" He left Zuko in charge of watching Aang, making sure he did his breathing exercises as instructed. 

Once the general was out of sight, Aang turned to the prince, perched at the end of his chair. "Lu Ten has a kid?" he asked, astonished.

Zuko nodded, "Actually, he used to babysit Azula and I when we were kids." Aang did know a couple of Zuko's childhood stories from his letters, but it was always the more exciting stuff, like trips to Ember Island and meeting foreign royalty. He was pretty eager to hear about the prince's day to day, and besides, anything was better than breathing exercises.

"He always kind of hung about Mother and us if he wasn't studying or entertaining one of his friends from high school. It started when I was pretty small. Apparently I'd cry if I was left alone with one the nursemaids, so Mother asked Lu Ten to look after me instead. And pretty soon, if I was not with my mother, I was with Lu Ten." Zuko looked uncomfortable, before adding, "I used to call him 'Dada' when I was too small to know better. And my tongue has slipped and I've called him 'Dad' more often than I would like to admit."

"But Zuko, that's so cute," Aang cooed, laughing as Zuko hid his face in his hands in shame.

"That's enough of my embarrassing childhood for today," he said, propping his head up on his chin. "You have some breathing exercises to practice, don't you?"

Aang looked at the prince imploringly. Zuko seemed to understand, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Look, I don't want to watch you breath for the next half hour either."

"Then we're on the same page," Aang beamed. "C'mon, I'm an airbender, breathing is what I do best."

"Isn't that the same for most people?" Zuko added drily. He got up from his chair, and walked to the centre of the arena. "I guess I'll teach you some basics."

"Really?" Aang sprung up from his seat, trailing behind the prince with a skip in his step. 

"Just don't tell Uncle," he said, getting into formation.

They continued to cycle through basic forms for the next hour or so. The rays the midday sun were equally oppressive as they were invigorating and Aang could feel the sweat pooling drop his back and drenching his forehead. He looked over towards Zuko and the prince was much the same, hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks flushed in exertion. Aang had to remind himself not to stare, but Zuko hardly noticed, swiftly circling through the motions, maintaining the same even pace throughout despite how much his muscles must be aching. 

They stopped when the Fire Nation Royal Council was dismissed for lunch, or rather were interrupted by the sudden onslaught of young ministers, led by no other than Lu Ten and the Fire Princess. 

"No way! You're bending already?" Lu Ten exclaimed, waving his hand as his platoon of ministers trailed after him.

Aang waved back, glad to see that the older prince wasn't terribly affected by last night's drinking. He bowed down, greeting the princess formally as she approached, she did that same and they didn't speak a word as she immediately went to Zuko's side. Aang didn't miss how Zuko flopped against her shoulder almost instantly, panting as the exhaustion from today's training finally caught up with him. She directed him to sit on one of the chairs and pulled up another so they were still side by side, seemingly attached at the hip. They were talking to each other, inaudibly, and Aang caught a whiff of that warm scent that radiated off Zuko at breakfast. He didn't know whether to be jealous or grossed out.

Lu Ten must have caught him staring, because with a knowing smile, he asked Aang if he knew of Azula's blue fire. The crowd's attention turned from him to their princess, as they urged her for a demonstration. 

"Oh very well, for our honoured guest" she conceded, and burst of blue flames shot out of her palm. The crowd, although clearly familiar with Azula's bending, cheered appreciatively. Aang shifted closer to get a better look, marvelling at the pale blue flickers. 

"What about a duel?" a brave voice called from the crowd. The princess raised her eyebrows, her grin red and sharp as she teased the idea, tilting her head to one side in a serpentine manner. 

As much as he enjoyed sparring with those with unique styles of bending, Aang wasn't feeling too enthusiastic, having scarcely caught his breath. At the same time, the sight of Zuko dozed off against his sister's shoulder spurred on the alpha inside of him. If Azula were to accept the challenge, he certainly wouldn't back away.

Thankfully, Lu Ten intervened, "Come on, we can to this later. Aren't you guys hungry?"

Azula stood up, detaching herself from Zuko's side. She cast a stern look at the troop of young ministers, "Lu Ten's right. I don't want any of you slacking off next meeting."

"Perhaps we could duel another time?" Aang suggested.

Azula nodded, "Of course, I look forward to fight you." She bowed with the same self satisfied smile, as if to add the unsaid "and winning".

Aang silently wondered if this was why Zuko didn't have many suitors. He barely interacted with the other ministers, despite them all being around their age, instead clinging to Azula as if he belonged to her. And given how intimidating she was, it wasn't a surprise that none of them tried to talk him, keeping a respectful distance out of fear. 

But Aang wasn't afraid, fear was against his nature and there was always something enticing about the dangerous and reckless. Now, he felt a sudden sense of gratitude towards Azula. Zuko deserves only the best.

The mob dissipated, and they were left alone once more. For a while, there was simply silence.

"So, er, what should we do now?" Aang asked gingerly. Apparently, not fearing Azula did nothing to soothe the awkwardness that crept up between them.

"We could order lunch if you're hungry?" Zuko suggested.

"We're eating here?"

"Well, we could eat by the lake if you want."

"The one with the turtleducks?"

Zuko smiled. "Yep, that one."

They walked slowly. After days of flying on Appa to get to the Fire Nation, Aang's muscles were sore from disuse. He guessed it must be the same for Zuko as they matched each other's pace naturally. With a swift summer's breeze in the air, the morning's bitterness had all but faded away and amicable conversation flowed between them. 

"That reminds me," Aang piped up. "You say something about a catacomb yesterday."

Zuko's footsteps halted for maybe a second, and Aang had to look back to check that he didn't somehow ruin the mood again. Instead he was as animated as the first time he mentioned the Dragonborne Catacombs.

"How do you feel about breaking and entering?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is an oddball chapter tbh, a lot happens but also not
> 
> the chapter title is from nct u's "baby don't stop", it has v strong zukaang vibes. also taeyong highkey reminds me of zuko, ten's a bit more ambiguous (lil bit of azula altho not much), but he gives an airbender vibe when he dances?
> 
> also!! while writing these chapters (esp the last two) i make funny lil notes to myself abt the characters. if u guys are interested, i'm thinking of posting them to my [twt](https://twitter.com/4ku_n0_h4n4) (and maybe even my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cupidshootstokill)) either way, pls interact w me on these platforms in these uneventful times (i highkey want to be part of an zukaang gc)
> 
> oh, this is more of a speculative idea, but i was thinking of writing a zutaraang + yukka idol au, possibly on twt or tumblr. but u know, not full prose, w some bits in a transcript style. i have many ideas but lil knowhow


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